Clubwhore (Devil's Renegade MC #1)(41)

“How about you get my wine…master.” His face falls and I get the feeling that in pushing his buttons, I’ve pressed my luck. Leaning down, he braces his hands on either side of the tub and brings his face so close to mine our noses nearly touch. “Get out. Dry your hair and go to bed.” I swallow hard and nod. He straightens, shoots me one last look of warning and leaves.

Fear of the unknown has my heartbeat still racing long after he’s gone. When my hair is dry, I nervously cross the hall to the bedroom and climb in bed. My hands fidget and my nerves sing as I wait. And I wait.

And wait.

Nothing.

Not knowing what’s to come is scarier than the fact that I actually wanted him to hurt me not long ago. But it wasn’t the pain I wanted, it was this feeling in my chest to disappear. Now the idea of me not having feelings for him sounds more preposterous than embracing my emotions. He’s all I want. All I crave. All I need. Reality starts to slowly sink in as the minutes tick by.

He’s not coming.

This is my punishment.

And in this moment, I realize there is a greater fear than his wrath.

His absence.





At some point I fell asleep. The first thing I do when I wake is notice that he isn’t here. The alarm clock by the bed tells me it’s after four in the morning. Meaning I’ve been asleep for a little over an hour. I should be exhausted enough to sleep through the night, considering my training session, love revelation and crying spell from earlier. But his absence stirs a deep part of my brain, preventing me from feeling any sense of peace.

I more than don’t like this feeling. I loathe it. Physical pain I can deal with. Emotional pain, not so much. I get it. I deserved this. But I’m willing to trade my loneliness for anything. He can tie me up, keep me from coming, blindfold me and spank me until my skin blisters. Anything but this.

I crawl out from under the covers that are tucked tightly around me. I wasn’t under the covers. He must have come in at some point, and I feel warm at the thought of him coming to check on me—taking care of me even when I don’t deserve it. What I deserve is to have my teeth knocked out for being such a dick to the only guy who’s ever been this nice to me.

Pulling on my robe, I tiptoe through the house in search of him. He’s nowhere in sight, and I hesitate before opening the door to the man cave/playroom. The moment the door opens, I hear grunts and the sound of chains rattling. I find Bryce shirtless, sweaty and beating the shit out of a punching bag.

Have mercy…

His muscles roll with every punch he throws. His moves are swift, fluid and effortless—hitting the bag repeatedly in the same place every time. My mouth is dry, but it’s the only part of my body that is. Sweat breaks out across my brow, under my arms and there’s a small river flowing between my thighs. He’s just so…hot.

I don’t know if I sighed or moaned or hell, maybe I called his name. But his arms drop and he looks over his shoulder at me. His chest heaves for air. It’s the first time I’ve seen him winded. But it’s his eyes that floor me. They’re not just dark—they’re stormy.

“Didn’t I tell you to go to bed?” There’s grit in his tone and my guilt thickens. If I wasn’t such a selfish asshole, he’d be in bed instead of in here sweating off his frustrations.

Pulling the door closed behind me, I stand just inside it, keeping my distance. “I don’t like being alone.”

“I know. That’s the point.” He takes a sip of water, keeping his eyes trained on me. Damn, they’re intense. And a little scary.

“I shouldn’t have been such a jerk. You were right. I was provoking you to hit me…again.”

“Don’t say that.” My blood chills at the ice in his tone. “I’ve never hit you. Not like that.”

I nod, trying to find a way out of this hole I just keep digging. “I mean…well, you know what I mean.”

“Say it,” he demands. Boy, he’s not letting me off easy on this one.

I swallow again, wishing I had a sip of his water. “Spank me. I wanted you to spank me, so I said what I thought would make you angry enough to do it.”

He stares at me a long time before he speaks. “I’ve never touched you because I was angry, Delilah. I did it because you needed it, or you deserved it.”

Dropping my eyes, I toy with the belt of my robe. “I know. I was wrong, and I’m sorry.”

“Don’t you think your ass has been through enough? Do you have no limits to the amount of pain you want? Have I not taken care of you? Do I not give you enough attention without you forcing my hand?”

“I said I was sorry,” I snap, raising my eyes to meet his.

“Are you? Really?” he presses, and I’m not sure if this is another tactic of his, or if he’s actually pissed. “Why did you come in here?”

“To find you.”

“And what?” His eyebrows raise expectantly. I notice whatever trouble he was dealing with must have passed. Now he’s more in control. Still demanding as hell, but not in a way that makes me worry about him.

“To find you and apologize.”

He shakes his head. “Try again.”

I throw my hands up in confusion. “What do you want me to say?”

“The truth.”

I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about. So I just shrug. Apparently that pushes his button too.

“I told you why I came in here. That’s the truth.”

“So if I told you there’s a way to trade one form of punishment for another, that’d be the first time you thought about it?” Oh…that’s what he’s talking about. What the fuck is he? A mind reader?

“I mean, I thought about it. But that’s not my intentions.”

“Then go to bed.” He turns away, clearly dismissing me.

“Wait,” I call, stopping him mid-punch. “I wanna trade.” He turns to face me again. “I’ll do anything, just…don’t leave me alone.” Immediately his face softens. I might have overplayed it just a little. But fuck it. I think it’s going to work in my favor.

Walking, well, more like strutting toward me, I keep my eyes on his face to avoid looking at his body. It arouses me too much, and I want to be fair. Tackling him to the floor and forcing him to fuck me isn’t very fair.

Stopping in front of me, he looks down while I look up. I try not to, but I can’t help it—I inhale. Sweaty Bryce smells better than I could’ve imagined. If masculine had a scent, it would be him. I literally want to lick his chest.

“You’re meant to feel the full impact of your punishment. You’re supposed to feel uncomfortable and ashamed. That’s the entire reasoning behind it. That’s the only way for it to be effective…for you to feel better afterward.” He tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, and the simple touch seems to make everything okay—no, not that word. I hate that word. It makes everything better.

“But I never want you to feel like I’ve abandoned you. I wouldn’t do that.” His finger trails across my jaw to beneath my chin. He tilts my head back a little to keep my focus as he leans in. “Trust, Love. You have to trust me to help you overcome your fears.”

I’m not going to cry… Nope. I ain’t doing it.

“Now.” His voice deepens, and the softness disappears. “You came in here for a trade. It’s your ass on the line. So what do you have to offer? ” Mischief dances in his eyes. I know if I told him to spank me, he’d make damn sure I wouldn’t be requesting it again anytime soon. As appealing as that sounds—insert sarcasm—there’s something else I need more.

I agreed to this because I was willing to try something to help cure this sickness inside of me. No matter how hard or how much he spanked me, it wouldn’t fix the part of me that’s broken. Sometimes I need it. Sometimes I deserve it. And here lately, I just want it. Not this time. I need, deserve and want something much, much worse.

I try to drop my head, but his finger under my chin holds me in place. My eyes prick with tears, but I force them back. I will not cry and make him feel guilty. It’s not fair to him or to me.

“I trust you.”

Without waiting for his reaction, I step out of his grasp and quietly leave the room. I won’t let the beast win this time. No matter how much I hate this, I’ll endure it. The moment I slide between the sheets, I welcome that feeling of loneliness and fear. But even as it settles inside me, there’s a calming voice in the back of my head reminding me of what I know to be true.

I’m not alone.





Hours later, long after the sun has rose, I feel arms circle my waist as Bryce’s warm body curls around mine. With his hand splayed on my stomach and his lips at my ear, I welcome his demand to go back to sleep. But what I hear is so much more rewarding.

“You’re perfect.”





CHAPTER 22



It was early afternoon before I woke. I found Bryce in the man cave/playroom, sprawled on the couch watching TV. Wordlessly, he gestured with his hand for me to join him. I spent the day curled into his side watching movies on the large flat screen.

Neither of us mentioned the events of last night that bled into the early hours of this morning. Actually, we barely spoke at all. The silence was nice and never grew uncomfortable.